Sweet Dreams
by Phoenix Moon 13
Summary: Post The Gift. What would you do if your dreams were someone else's memories? Memories you didn't understand? OC warning.
1. Sacrifice

_**Sweet Dreams  
**_**Chapter One: Sacrifice**

The realisation was calm, the thought not frightening in the least. The love she felt for the young brunette was complete. As she glanced at the portal, the brunette realised and terror bloomed in her eyes as she shook her head vehemently.

"Buffy… No!" she cried.

"Dawnie, I have to."

"No!"

"Listen to me. Please, there's not a lot of time, listen…"

And the words were sweet, loving, the sort of things your dying words should be. But it was not the words that mattered; it was the feeling that could not be expressed in words alone.

"… I will _always_ love you. But this is the work I have to do…"

If one thing in the world could have stopped her, it would have been her sister's face as she said the words. But as long as she did this, that expression would fade in time and her sister could live happily, knowing her sister loved her. She wasn't scared, there was an anticipation about it. But loss underlined it, knowing she would never see her friends again.

"… You have to take care of them…"

There would be no jokes, no tears, no research parties, no nights at the Bronze. There would be no Willow and Xander, the best friends she'd ever had. There would be no Anya, irritating yet somehow loveable. There would be no Tara, sweet and gentle. No Giles, the man she looked upon as her father, the man that looked after her and helped her. No Spike to dislike and half-heartedly pretend to hate, to look at her so lovingly, for her to try to figure out.

And there would be no Dawn, no beautiful, annoying, stop-touching-my-things! Dawn

And she would miss them so much.

"… You have to be strong. Be brave. Live… for me."

And then she ran. She left the world of love and hardship behind. And she met the portal, the energy tearing at her, yet she knew she was saving her friends the only way she knew how. And this was her job.

She never saw Tara hold Willow upright as she buckled under the guilt that she wasn't strong enough to do something, that she never got to say goodbye.

She never saw Anya's head fall back on Xander or his hand tighten around her as he stared at his friend's body. She never saw Anya kiss his neck gently in reassurance.

She never saw Giles's face crease in the moment of realising his Slayer, his adopted daughter was gone.

She never saw her sister - sobbing and clutching her bleeding sides - coax the broken-hearted and physically crushed vampire away from the sunlight, knowing the only way she was going to live was by doing this and not looking at the body of the fallen hero she had known only as Buffy, her sister.

Buffy Summers; Slayer, Friend, Lover, Hero. She saw none of it.

Vicky Noble; student, virgin, loner. She saw it all and awoke with a wild gasp.


	2. Pain

_**Sweet Dreams**_  
**Chapter Two: Pain**

Willow slipped the book underneath the bed as Tara came in.

"Hey, sweetie," Tara greeted, smiling warmly, kissing her briefly on the lips. "What you doing?"

"Just going over that spell again," Willow told her. "I want to make sure that we've got everything."

"Anya said she can get the urn," Tara said, hanging up her jacket. "Were there any preparation rituals to be done before the actual spell, Willow?"

Willow glanced up, startled. There had been. She hadn't told Tara because the book did not state why this spell was needed and Tara would not have allowed her to do it if they didn't know what it was for. Willow told herself it was to prepare Buffy's life force and to prepare herself.

But something told her that it wasn't anything like that.

"No," she lied. "No there were no preparation rituals."

"Then the spell must be quite straightforward," Tara frowned in thought. A spell to resurrect someone shouldn't be straightforward. But Willow knew what she was doing. Tara trusted her.

"Yeah," Willow agreed quickly. "It's simple, but intense."

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Tara asked gently, sitting down and putting an arm around Willow, kissing her hair gently. "I know you miss her. I miss her too, we all do. But are you sure you want to do this?"

"It doesn't matter what I want," Willow said decisively, pulling away from Tara so she could see her patented resolve face. "What matters is Buffy."

* * *

Vicky was tired. She rubbed her hand over her face and stared at her notebook. She hadn't been sleeping lately. _No,_ she corrected herself, _I am sleeping, I'm just not feeling the benefits._

It was the dreams. She blamed the dreams. But they weren't like dreams, they were like memories. Not even memories, she was living it, it was real. She twirled her pen and skimmed over the notes of her dreams. She wanted to be a writer; maybe this was it, the big one. The ultimate story of heroism and love.

But it was the one story she didn't want to write because, somehow, it wasn't hers.

"Vicky," her roommate moaned. "What are you _doing_?"

"Writing," Vicky answered shortly.

"You always are."

"Alicia," Vicky sighed. "Why don't you go out?"

"Good idea," the tall girl stood up and grabbed her jacket. "Don't wait up!"

"I won't," Vicky muttered after the slamming of the door.

She closed the notebook, sliding it under her mattress. She hesitated for a second, then slumped onto the bed and closed her eyes, falling into yet another dream.

* * *

Rupert Giles cast his eyes over the bedraggled group. It had been a hard night. Very hard. Anya was fussing quietly over the cut above Xander's eye. Willow and Tara were nursing bruises. Dawn was silently bandaging Spike's exposed arm, while he stared unseeingly into the distance. Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his forehead. God, he was tired. Just so… tired.

He didn't know how he was supposed to keep them together.

How could he help the devastated friends, the crushed and alone little sister and even broken hearted vampire when she had been his Slayer too?

How could he make them feel better when he couldn't make himself feel better?

Spike stood up slowly, took Dawn's shoulders and pushed her gently in the direction of the door.

"I'll be taking the Bit home," he said quietly. "You can stay here," he told Willow and Tara. "I'll stay with her 'til you get back."

They nodded and he guided her out of the shop. Once Dawn had gone, the pretence dropped and everyone slumped into themselves.

"When does it get easier?" Anya asked, laying her head on Xander's chest.

"I wish I knew," Giles answered quietly. "I wish I knew."

Willow bit her tongue to prevent herself telling him it would be all right soon, because Buffy was coming home.

* * *

The dream started immediately. They always did. It was like falling from one reality into another one, a more real reality. One that was darker than the one she resided in, but truer.

She was in a crypt, watching a scene play out. She knew it was before the dream where the girl leapt into the portal, because there she was, chained to a wall. The blonde male stood before her, his body tensed.

"I love you."

The girl closed her eyes and let out a soft groan.

"Oh my God."

"No, look at me!" he reached out and took her chin in her hand, forcing her to look at him. "I ... love you," the girl jerked her head free. "You're all I bloody think about. Dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you, Summers, I'm drowning in you."

And it was true. He was drowning in her, desperately trying to clear his head of her. For someone who didn't need to breathe, he was suffocating. He lived for the moments he would see her, be around her. He hated himself for wanting her like he did. Hated himself, hated her, loved her. It was tearing him apart.

And she couldn't see it, didn't believe that he could love without a soul. She didn't care that he would sacrifice Drusilla for her. But she _had to_, there had to be something there.

"Just ... give me something ... a crumb ... a barest smidgen ... tell me ... maybe, someday, there's a chance."

When she uttered his name, his unbeating heart leapt. This was it; she would say the words. He didn't expect "I love you," he didn't, honestly. He expected her to say maybe, and he would have been happy with that, because maybe could grow into definitely

"The only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious."

For a moment, it didn't penetrate. He didn't understand. Then the curl of her lip and the venom of her words sank in and he understood. This wasn't maybe, this wasn't someday, this was _never_.

"Gaaah!" he screamed. "What the bleeding hell is _wrong_ with you _bloody_ women? What the hell does it take? Why ... do you _bitches_ torture me? The girl looked on. She almost rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

"Which question do you want me to answer first?" she asked sweetly.

"Look, I, I'm at the end of my bleeding tether. You know? I don't even know why I even bother, you know," he pointed to the dark haired women tied to a pillar. "This is your fault. You're the one to blame for all this."

"Am I?" she asked absent-mindedly.

"Bloody right you are!" he shouted, "If you hadn't left me for that chaos demon, I never would have come back here! Never would have had this sodding chip in my skull! And you - " he turned his attention to the chained Slayer. "You wouldn't be able to touch me, because this, with you, is wrong. I know it. I'm not a complete idiot. You think I like having you in here? Destroying everything that was me, until all that's left is you, in a dead shell. You say you hate it, but you won't leave. You know, what I should just do is get rid of both of you. Burn you. Cut you into little pieces so there won't be any more bints to cock up things for Spi-"

He lurched forward as another blonde woman shot an arrow into his back.

The room faded to be replaced by the blonde man, following the Slayer to her door.

"…Like it or not, I'm in your life, you can't just shut me out -" he stopped, unable to go any further past the doorway. Slowly, it dawned on him that he was no longer welcome. He had cocked up. Again

She stared at him, the impassiveness on her face hurting more than the sound of the door slamming in his face.

Vicky sat up and leaned her forehead against her knees. She gasped for breath and when she sank back against her pillows her heart was thundering in her chest.


	3. Real

_**Sweet Dreams**_  
**Chapter Three: Real**

_"Let's just say… I'm a friend."  
__"Yeah, well, maybe I don't want a friend."  
__"I didn't say I was yours."_

_"I love you. I try not to, but I can't stop."  
__"Me - me, too. I can't either."_

_"…Was I not good?"  
__"You were great. Really. I thought you were a pro."_

_"I love you."  
__"Close your eyes."_

_"I'm trying to do what's right here, ok? I'm trying to think with my head instead of my heart."  
__"Heart? You have a heart? It isn't even beating!"  
__"Don't."  
__"Don't what? Don't love you? I'm sorry. You know what? I didn't know I got a choice in that. I'm never gonna change. I can't change. I want my life to be with you."  
__"I don't."  
__"You don't want to be with me? I can't believe you're breaking up with me."_

_"I think horrible is still coming. Right now, it's worse. Right now, I'm just trying to keep from dying."_

"Shit!" Vicky screamed as she sat up in bed, grabbed her alarm clock and through it at the wall. She twisted her fingers into her hair and rested her forehead against her knees, as Alicia looked at her, eyes bleary with sleep.

"Jeez, girl," she muttered, "you're getting your uptight self all wound up."

"Shut up!" Vicky snapped as she jumped out of bed.

Alicia shrugged and rolled over, soon her soft snoring filled the room. Vicky paced the space at the foot of the bed. She couldn't take anymore. _A whole night of "The Greatest Love Story Ever Told,"_ Vicky thought, _fantastic._ She rubbed her bare arms, trying to push the feelings way. Feelings of love, disappointment and pain.

"Always with the pain," she muttered.

She glanced at the shattered remains of her clock and sighed as she gathered them together. The sunlight had only just started to filter through the curtains and her roommate's snoring grew. With another sigh, Vicky decided to get dressed and go shopping.

* * *

Willow frowned at the Buffybot who carried on grinning at her.

"Where's Dawn?" it asked brightly. "She's my sister!"

"Yeah, well, she's at home. Uh, why were you so late getting back last night?"

"I'm the Slayer," the 'bot informed her. "I have to kill evil and save the world."

"And that's what you were doing?"

"Yep!"

"Can you clear her out?" Anya asked, as she swept past them with a broom.

"Sure, I'll get her home."

Willow stood up and began to usher the 'bot toward the door.

"Willow?"

She paused and turned around, waiting for Anya to continue. It was obviously about something major because she hesitated and came over to Willow, glancing back nervously.

"I think I've found the urn," she whispered.

Willow's heart leapt. She had been dwelling on those preparation spells ever since Tara brought them up, but now, with the urn within reach - which meant that Buffy was almost home - they faded into insignificance.

Buffy was going to be all right.

They were _all_ going to be all right.

"Ok," Willow nodded. "You can get it soon?"

"Yeah, it's on its way, it might be a couple of weeks."

"That's ok," Willow grinned, her first real grin since she lost her best friend.

Anya just smiled. Just because the rest of them thought she hadn't been that affected, it didn't mean she didn't miss Buffy. She had that weird feeling she had had when Joyce died; only it was worse. She was glad Buffy would be back. She knew it was wrong, messing with life and death like they were going to, but if someone like Tara was going along with it, it was ok, right?

Willow paused at the door and glanced back at Anya.

"Anya?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Willow looked her in the eye, her voice totally sincere.

* * *

Vicky tossed the empty paper cup into the trashcan. She looked at the row of shops, trying to decide which she would hit first. Saturday shopping was just what she needed to make herself feel -

"No," she murmured when her eyes froze on one shop in particular.

The Magic Box.

_This is so not happening. _Her feet carried her forward without her even realising she was moving. She pushed through the door and walked calmly through the shop. It was all so familiar.

The bell over the door.

The step down into the main shop.

The table.

The counter with - _oh God, Rupert Giles._

"Hey, Giles…?"

Vicky looked to her left and saw a petite redhead get up and approach him, only briefly looking up from the book she held.

Vicky turned sharply and stared intently at the books. She felt the panic rise like bile in her throat. This wasn't real, how could it be? Dreams were not real. Dreams were the products of overactive imaginations and she knew she had one of those. They just _could not_ be real. If this was real - the shop, the people - if this was real, then it all was. The vampires, the demons, the White Hats and Black Hats. If this was real, then the death was, and the pain. That would mean that a young girl had sacrificed herself to save the world. To save a world where no one knew, where no one would ever know.

If this was real, then it could stop.

She turned sharply and strode towards the counter. She knew she didn't look like the average girl of twenty-one. Her light blonde hair was elegantly cut and layered, hanging perfectly to frame her heart shaped faced. Her make-up was sophisticated, the green of her eyes carefully accentuated through years of practice. She wore casual jeans with a white blouse and a knee length black jacket, tailored around the waist. Her boots had high heels and the toes were pointed almost painfully. She had long ago been taught that to look like a lady, you had to endure a few hardships. She scoffed at that now; she had never known the meaning of the word.

"Rupert Giles," she began, her voice authoritative, her accent ringing.

Giles glanced up, frowning at her as though trying to place her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Do I know you?"

"No," she said and pulled her wallet from her black leather bag. With slightly shaking fingers, she removed a wad of notes and slid them across the glass counter towards him. Her voice was low now, shaking slightly. "Make it stop. I don't care how much it costs, just make it stop. I can't take it anymore."

"I'm not quite with you," Giles answered. "If you could just explain…"

In exasperation, Vicky turned to a confused Willow.

"Willow," she said, the pleading evident in her voice. "You can make it stop, you're a witch. Please make it stop, just make it stop!"

"Make what stop?" Willow asked, taking Vicky's hands in an effort to calm her down.

"The - " the bell over the door rang and there was a vague buzzing and sparking as the Buffybot walked in.

"Willow," she said. "I tried to make toast," her head twitched to the side. "I missed with the knife."

Vicky's eyes widened as she stared at the Buffybot who had sat down at the table and was waiting patiently with a bright smile on her face.

"But you're…" Vicky started before dropping to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

"And she knew who you were?" Xander asked, eyeing the blonde they were crowded around.

"Well, yes," Giles said. "She seemed to."

"Weird," Dawn offered.

Anya glanced at the window at the front of the shop then down at the girl on the floor.

"She'd better wake up soon," she stated irritably. "I can't keep the shop closed forever."

"Oh, Heaven forbid," Giles muttered.

There was a groan and the blonde put her hand to her head. Her eyes fluttered open and travelled around the group. All of the faces were familiar. Giles, Willow, Xander, Anya, Dawn. _Dawn, _she thought, remembering the look of horror on her face when she realised what her sister was going to do.

She struggled up, Xander's hand instinctively reaching out to help her. She stood; swaying slightly and the situation crashed down on her like a ton of bricks.

"I have uh… I have to go," she stuttered and backed out of the centre of the group and ran across the shop.

They looked on as she unlocked the door and fled out onto the sunlit street.

"Was it something we said?" Xander called, knowing full well she couldn't hear her.

"Willow," Giles started, his gaze fixed on the path the girl had taken. "Do you think you could track her down?"

"Sure," Willow agreed.


	4. Alike

_**Sweet Dreams**_  
**Chapter Four: Alike**

_I'm not doing this again_, she told herself. _I'm not going to sleep and dreaming those goddamn dreams. I'm not feeling it. I'm not feeling the love for some brooding guy and I am most definitely _not_ spending another night chained to a wall by a bleached blonde. _Not _going to happen!_

She wrenched open her closet and dragged her suitcase out, opening it and piling her clothes in. There was a knock on the door and Vicky sighed.

"Use your damned key, Alicia!" she yelled.

The knocking persisted and Vicky straightened up. _Fine,_ she thought._ If I'm not hanging around, then I might as well tell the girl I can't stand her._

She opened the door and started to talk but noticed this wasn't the girl with dark hair and legs the length of a giraffe's neck.

"Willow?"

"Uh, yeah," Willow answered. "Can I uh, can I come in?"

"You're not a vampire, are you?"

"What? No! No, definitely not a vampire!"

"Then I guess I can't stop you," she pushed away from the door and sat down heavily on the bed.

Her shoulders slumped forward, a small nagging voice in the back of her mind that sounded remarkably like her mother, told her to_ "Sit up straight, dear. Now offer your guest a drink and be polite. Oh, when did you become so uncouth, Victoria darling?"_

_When I became some sort of telepathic dream person, Mother_, she replied mentally and slumped even further forward in a gesture of rebellion.

"This is probably really weird for you," Willow was saying. "And I want you to know that we - my friends and I, I mean - are really good at weird. So, we were wondering, how do you know us?"

"I thought you'd babble more," Vicky commented. "Look, I have these dreams -"

"Dreams?" Willow asked. "Are you, like, a witch? 'Cause maybe it was the effect of a spell…"

"I'm not a witch," Vicky told her. "Up until a week and a half ago, I didn't believe in witches or vampires and the thought of a Slayer never crossed my mind! These aren't dreams, Willow, these are memories. I saw Xander ask Buffy out. I saw the summary of the great Buffy and Angel story, and I was _in_ _love_ with the guy. He's not even my type! I'm not even attracted to him and I was _in love_ with him! It affects me. I saw Spike tie Buffy up and tell her he loved her and I wanted to punch his lights out. I've never so much as swatted a fly!"

Willow stared at her, her eyes wide. She knew so much. She knew the names of people Willow knew. This girl knew about things Willow might not know. This was… It had to be some sort of spell.

"Would you come with me to the shop?"

* * *

"Memories, you say?" Giles asked.

"That's what I said," Vicky answered, eyeing the assembled 'Scoobies' warily.

"Well, we'll certainly look into it," he reassured her.

"Great and until then, I should, what?" she asked.

"Did you see everything?" a small voice asked before Giles could answer.

Vicky looked at the teenager, curled in a chair to the left of Spike. His arm rested lightly on the back of her chair.

"Yeah," she answered shortly. "Everything."

She really didn't want to get into this because when she looked at these people, she knew them. She wasn't going to stick around and become their dead heroine.

"Just," she started, then stopped and turned her gaze from Dawn back to Giles. "Just make it stop, ok? I've got things to do and I can't do it while I'm living this other life. I just want some sleep of my own."

Giles looked slightly startled by the girl's cold tone. He chastised himself for thinking… _For thinking what exactly, Rupert?_ he asked himself, _that she was Buffy? That she was your Slayer?_

It was true; this Victoria girl did bear a passing resemblance to Buffy. When she spoke, the things she knew, remembered, felt… It was as though she were Buffy.

But that cold voice had brought him back to his senses. His Slayer was dead and this chilly girl was somehow dreaming Buffy's memories.

He intended to stop it.

"We'll do everything we can to get rid of it as soon as possible," he assured her.

"Please do."

She picked up her bag and walked past them without so much as a goodbye or a backward glance.

"She wasn't… very friendly," Tara said.

"Friendly?" Spike scoffed, not hearing the bell over the door ring again. "Bloody ice bitch, that was."

"Thanks. Coming from the guy who couldn't keep a lid on his emotions if he tried, I'll take that as a compliment."

Spike turned and eyed the girl who lifted her keys from where she left them on the counter and didn't answer.

She wasn't always so unfriendly. She didn't mix well with others, that was always true, but she was usually quite amicable. What was it about those people that made her dislike them so much?

It wasn't that she disliked them, even, she just wanted to make sure she didn't get too close.

She didn't want to become chums with them. She didn't want to respect Giles. She didn't want to be Dawn's sister.

She didn't want to be Buffy Ann Summers.

* * *

Spike watched as Dawn curled between the two witches, her head in Willow's lap and her feet on Tara's. He smiled grimly and raised his hand in farewell.

He strode down the street, his head bowed and his fingers searching for a cigarette in the leathery depths of the pockets of his duster. He really hated this town. You couldn't lose someone without some little girl turning up and raking up the memories. What he really wanted was out. He wanted out of Sunnydale. Out of the Scooby gang. Out of Dawn's life.

He knew it was selfish, but he was a vampire, it wasn't like he cared.

But there was the problem, he _did_ care. He cared about Dawn; he cared about the witches, the ex-demon, even Xander, just a little. And he respected the bloody Watcher.

Leaving really hadn't crossed his mind because of his promise to protect Dawn. But it was crossing his mind now. Had set up permanent residence and he blamed that Vicky bint.

She was so much like Buffy. She looked like her, she knew things she knew, felt things she had felt and when she wasn't being deliberately cool, she sounded like her.

And Spike wasn't sticking around to see if he'd fall in love with her. She might look, sound and feel like Buffy, but she wasn't. So she wasn't good enough.

So why were his feet moving towards the UC Sunnydale campus?

* * *

Vicky was reading, reading meant she wasn't sleeping and that was good. Alicia, tired of her roommate's mood swings had gone to a party. Vicky wasn't exactly a party person. She was a loner and she was going to stay that way. She wasn't about to become part of the Scooby gang. It wasn't going to happen. Not if she had anything to do with it.

The knock of the door interrupted her thoughts, making her realise she hadn't been reading the book at all. She got up, tugging the purple pyjama vest down and her purple plaid pants up. She opened the door and glared at the vampire.

"Uh, Vicky," Spike said.

"What do you want, Spike?"

"Can I come in?"

"I don't - " she sighed in defeat, thinking she might as well hear him out before she threw him out and pushed the door open, walking away and sitting on the bed. "Come in."

"Thanks," he nodded and walked in, hesitating at the foot of her bed.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to say sorry," he started. "For calling you -"

"The ice bitch? You've never said 'sorry' for anything in your life. Anyway, I'm not about to apologise for what I said. What are you really here for?"

"I'm leaving Sunnydale?"

"And you thought you'd tell me because…?"

He paused. Why was he telling her? It wasn't like she cared. In fact, by the way she spoke and acted with him, she had pretty much decided to hate him. Buffy had always acted like she hated him…

"Because I thought you might wanna come."

The words tumbled forth before he could stop them. Once they were out, he was sort of glad. Maybe if she said yes, something could grow between them. She was so like Buffy, it would be like she'd never gone.

"Why would I want to?"

"Because… That way you wouldn't have to hang around the Hellmouth and have the dreams."

It was a pathetic attempt at nonchalance and she obviously wasn't falling for it.

"Spike, no offence meant here or anything, but I don't even like you that much."

"You said you saw," Spike protested. "I thought you'd come 'cause you understood."

"I did see it, but it's her I understand, not you," Vicky said. "I still don't like you. Look, if some guy chained me up and threatened me, I wouldn't exactly be leaping into your arms either! Did you even _consider_ flowers?"

"I didn't mean to -"

"But you did," she told him bluntly. "So you can understand my hesitancy to run off into the sunset with you. I don't like you enough for that. I'm the ice bitch, remember? And even if I did like you enough to go with you, what would be the point? She's gone, Spike, but she's still in your gut, in your throat. You made a promise to protect Dawn until the end of the world; it's not the end of the world, just _your_ world. You're _still_ drowning in her, Spike. And you always will be."

He looked up at her, she wasn't glaring, she wasn't looking at him with pity. Her face was impassive.

"Go home, Spike," she said. "Then tomorrow, get up and go see Dawn, because she's the reason you aren't going anywhere, however much you want to."

She was right. Spike stood and walked over to the door. He paused.

"Thanks."

"That's ok. Just make sure Giles gets on with the dream killing so I can go back to ignorant bliss."

He nodded and left. He felt somehow better. Her words causing others to ring in his ears.

_"I'm counting on you, to protect her."_

_"'Til the end of the world."_


	5. Creation

_**Sweet Dreams**_  
**Chapter Five: Creation**

"Not meant to be here, you say?" Giles asked.

"No," Spike stated, folding his arms. "I'm telling you, Watcher, that girl isn't supposed to be here."

"How do you know this, Spike?" Giles sighed.

He really wasn't in the mood for this. Willow said she would look into Vicky's dreams, she seemed to find it interesting. At one time, Giles may have felt the same, but right now, he had too much to think about. He knew that Spike had probably guessed. Spike had entered his place about ten minutes ago and his eyes had swept the room - the three cardboard boxes full of books and the two suitcases of clothing Giles had placed by the door stuck out the most - but he had said nothing. When he had looked up, there had been something in his eyes that Giles thought for moment had been despair. Though he couldn't think why Spike would miss him or be upset that he was leaving.

"I went to see her last night," Spike dropped his head, examining his shoes. "I was planning on leaving."

"Why on earth would you go and see her if that was the case, Spike?"

"Thought she might want to come," he mumbled. "She looks like…"

_Oh, _Giles thought, _Buffy. I imagine they've all thought of her as Buffy at one time or another. I know I have._ And for the briefest moments, Giles felt a tug of pity for the vampire.

"Anyway, thinking about it, there's something off about her. Like," he looked up at Giles and Giles was slightly unnerved by his direct gaze. "Like Dawn. There's something off about her too, like she's here but… not, if you know what I mean. But that Vicky bint, it's more obvious," he shrugged and dug in his pocket, removing his cigarettes before looking at Giles and replacing them. "I don't know. Just something wrong about her, thought you might want to know," his eyes scanned the room once more. "But I guess I should tell Will, eh?"

"That would be best," Giles nodded. "If I get a chance, I'll look out a couple of books that might help her sort out the problem."

Spike nodded and picked up the blanket from where he had tossed it over the back of Giles's couch. He walked to the door and reached for the handle, he pulled it open slightly, then pushed it shut again and turned back to Giles, a quizzical look on his face.

"You're leaving then?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes, I'm leaving. And I'd be grateful if you didn't tell the others," Giles answered.

"They'd want to say goodbye," Spike told him.

"That's exactly why I don't want them to know I'm leaving," Giles sighed and removed his glasses for a quick polish before he continued. "There are some goodbyes a person can't handle."

Spike nodded in agreement and breathed in audibly before answering, a slight tremor to his voice that he managed to even out before he reached the end of his sentence.

"And there are some you wish you'd had the chance to say, to see if you could have handled them or not."

Giles watched the pain flicker across his face, knowing his expression probably mirrored it. He reached out and held the back of his couch, squeezing tightly and struggling to contain the raging sea of emotions that coursed within him.

"Yes," he agreed. "There are."

"They'll miss you," Spike told him. "The Scoobs, I mean. You should, uh, you should visit, y'know. Dawn'd like that and they need… someone older to look out for 'em."

"They do," Giles nodded. "But they need to find their own way. Anyway, I was never the eldest, that's you."

Spike smiled ruefully.

"Nah, Rupert, not me. Anya's - what? A thousand? She's got over eight hundred years on me," he cleared his throat, his voice becoming serious. "I'll say goodbye now then, Giles, won't see you later. You're getting the afternoon flight?"

"Yes, half past two."

"Yeah. Goodbye, Rupert."

"Goodbye, Spike," Giles said, his voice kind.

Spike nodded once more before turning to leave.

"Spike," Giles said.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning to face him once more.

Giles hesitated, then extended his hand. Spike stared at it, then up at Giles. Slowly, he brought his hand up and clasped his hand, shaking it awkwardly.

"Take care of Dawn for me, Spike," Giles said.

"I made a promise to a lady," Spike stated solemnly, by way of another promise.

"I know," Giles nodded. "I'm, uh, on the way to the shop, would you like a lift to the crypt?"

"Yeah, don't mind if I do."

* * *

Willow scooped the last residues of coloured sand into the bin and sat down, legs crossed on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. Giles had gone. She should have told him what she was planning, he would have stayed. He would have stayed if he thought Buffy was coming back. Because Buffy was his Slayer, she was like his daughter. Willow knew that she and Xander meant a lot to him, as did Anya, Tara and Dawn, maybe even Spike - just a little - but none of them could ever live up to Buffy.

Willow felt angry at that. She was strong, she was powerful, this spell _proved_ it. She had looked up to him for such a long time, respected his opinion, listened to him when Buffy didn't, but she had never been as high in his affections as Buffy.

Then shame filled her. Of course she hadn't been as loved by Giles as Buffy. Buffy was the Slayer, Buffy was _his _Slayer, Willow was merely his trusted assistant, a role she had been so very proud of.

She wanted to get Buffy back for so many reasons. She wanted Buffy back for herself, Xander, Dawn and Giles. And she wanted to save Buffy from the hell dimension Willow was sure she was living in.

This was Willow's turn to do the saving.

Willow's turn to be the Hero.

She looked down at her fingers; the blue of the sand had stained her fingertips. It was the final preparation ritual, a tough one, but she had done it.

And suddenly the blue was red and it was warm and gushing over her fingers, wetting her hands and the soft coat of the animal it coursed from. That was what Willow had been ashamed of, the taking of an innocent life. But it had had to be done, to get Buffy back. So Willow pushed it to the back of her mind, standing as Xander, Anya and Tara came in.

Immediately, her eyes searched for the Urn of Osiris. She saw it clutched in Anya's hands and she was filled with relief. She had fixed the Buffybot for the last time, now the real Buffy would be home soon.

It's time, she thought.

* * *

_It's time_.

Vicky frowned as the completely abstract thought floated across her mind. Then she stood up and grabbed her coat from the bed. Alicia raised her eyebrows at her roommate.

Alicia Jacob had given up a long time ago trying to fathom Victoria Noble. She didn't get the girl, pure and simple. In fact, she was going to move in with someone else next year. There was only so much screaming, mood swings and sleep talking a girl could take. Alicia chuckled quietly as she remembered the things Vicky had mumbled in her sleep. _Slayers,_ she scoffed mentally, _vampires. Demons. Huh._

She looked up from her work in time to see Vicky open the door.

"Hey," she called. "Haven't you got any work to do?"

Vicky didn't answer. _What's new? _Alicia asked herself, mentally chalking up another reason why she wanted to leave.

* * *

The spell was well under way. Willow was surrounded by a red light, her hands held before her, displaying the gashes. Xander, Anya and Tara looked on in abject horror but it wasn't them that Willow saw.

Willow knew. She knew what those preparation spells had been for now, she saw the reason and it sent a chill of terror through her when she realised her own power. When she realised what this spell truly entailed. She had been foolish. Where did she think the…. The flesh, new organs were going to come from? Of course, they would rejuvenate, but they would need something, a push in the right direction.

A donor.

And that's just what Willow had created in Vicky Noble.


	6. Alive

_**Sweet Dreams**_  
**Chapter Six: Alive**

The whole town was one big riot. Vicky couldn't see how the people that lived there would be able to explain it away. But she knew they would. Looking back over the time she had been in Sunnydale and the false memories she had, she knew that odd occurrences were blamed on gangs and the like. And she herself had been taken in by them.

She avoided the centre of town, skirting around it in the direction of the cemetery. She ducked behind a tree as a demon astride a motorcycle sped past. She removed the stake she had in her pocket, the stake she had kept on her ever since discovering it was all real. She hadn't had the chance to use it yet, but she felt safer with the warm wood against her palm. She pushed through the trees, deeper into the forest that grew around the cemetery. There was a flash in her mind; a memory of nights spent patrolling through this forest and cemetery. A flash of a memory of cool kisses exchanged with her first love and warm kisses with her second. She shook it away, scared at how comfortable Buffy's memories felt in her head compared with her own memories.

She saw a red glow up ahead and backed away, not wanting to approach. Then something seemed to click within her and she threw her shoulders back, held her stake a little higher and approached the glow with caution. She was surprised at her own courage; surprised at the thrill the thought of a fight gave her. It was a thrill she only experienced in her dreams and for it to manifest in real life was both cool and decidedly _un_cool.

When she paused at the edge of a clearing, she could hear a distant voice. One that was full of pain, but stubbornly determined, one that rode the wave of magic that thrummed through the trees, grass, stones, her very being.

"Here lies the Warrior of the People…"

She thought about going to investigate, but was awed by the sight of the glowing red circle that rested in the middle of the clearing.

* * *

The words that tumbled from Willow's mouth were automatic, one's she had learnt by heart weeks ago.

It was another part of her saying it, while the second part of her hovered in the clearing only a few feet away from her best friend's grave and watched Vicky Noble stare at the portal.

Willow watched as Vicky lifted her fingers and traced the outline of the portal, hesitant, yet curious. Willow wanted to call out, to stop her. It was one thing taking the life of a deer, but it was another to take the life of a young woman with her whole life ahead of her.

_Slayer._

The word echoed through Willow's mind. Didn't a Slayer have her whole life ahead of her? Hadn't _Buffy _had her whole life ahead of her? A Slayer died a Hero; Vicky Noble wasn't even real. She was less real than Dawn. She had been created by Willow's spells for this purpose, this was her role.

What would she do if she didn't step through that portal?

_Nothing_, Willow answered herself. _She won't do anything._

* * *

There was something wrong. Spike could feel it. Dawn's arms were wrapped around his waist and right now, Spike wanted to concentrate on looking after her.

_Anyway, _he thought. _It's pretty bloody obvious that something's wrong. The town's ablaze; demon's running amok… No Slayer._

He carried on down the road, trying to avoid the areas the demons were concentrated in. He had to look after Dawn. He had to protect. _Tonight of all nights._ He didn't know where that thought came from, just that it was true. He weaved around a corner and sped down a silent and dark street. No lights twinkled from windows, no gurgles of young laughter. He had the feeling that the people of the street believed the more abandoned the street looked, the safer they'd be. He would have stopped to make sure, but right now, he had bigger things to think about. Well, smaller. Dawn wasn't that big, but she meant a lot.

They were heading in the general direction of town now, he figured he should try to find the Scoobs, safety in numbers for the Bit and all. He happened to glance over in the direction of the cemetery and noticed the two red smudges of light against the night sky. Once more, Spike got the intense feeling that something was very wrong.

* * *

It was pulling her. Tempting her. Coaxing her toward it.

But then she wasn't courageous or brave, suddenly she was scared and she shrank back, knowing instinctively that if she stepped towards it, into it, she would disappear. That terrified her.

She carried on staring at it though; she couldn't take her eyes off it. And then she knew. She knew this was her purpose. She was here to go through that portal. She didn't know why, or what awaited her on the other side, she just knew she had to go through it.

Because, if she went through it, the dreams stopped and she was free.

So she placed one foot back, pulling away from the portal, increasing the space between her and it.

Then she ran, her feet flitting easily over the ground, her hair flying behind her.

_"This is the work I have to do."_

And she knew it was true. Above the clamour of another person's memories, Vicky remembered a time she had had a nightmare about the end of the world. She remembered her Grandmother taking her into her arms and whispering "The world will never end, sweetheart, and the sky will never fall."

That was why she had to do this, because then it would be true. If she did this, the world had less chance of ending and the sky of falling.

Vicky's feet left the floor as she jumped, falling headfirst through the portal.

As she did so, the portal started to close, zipping shut after her. And as the last spot of red winked from existence, so did Vicky Noble. It was like she had never existed. She was wiped from the memories of her family, the few friends she had and the Scoobies. Any evidence of her dissolved as six feet below the ground, Buffy's eyes opened and took in her surroundings with horror.

_"… The hardest thing in this world… is to live in it."_

* * *

_**The End.**_


End file.
